reversible

on the outside, 
i am a concrete venus--

cleverly calm,
completely composed--

a model young woman 
with dazzling dreams
	of crystalline realities

but on the inside,
i am nothing...

nothing more than a trembling,
frightened little girl
	with my family dollar tags showing...

a tiny blue
speckled egg,
fallen from the nest
and cracked open
on the stale
	dirty ground

i crawled out
from my shattered shell:

a prozac-painted 
bluebird offspring
of blue-blooded peacock paternity

and a frazzled farmhouse mother
with black, oily feathers
	and crow's feet

i'm desperately ditching my
"good girl" reputation
for a place where i am more
than just my name
	or his--

"the dentist's daughter..."
a perfectly good description
if i were nothing...

nothing more than a part
of him...

i want to be known 
for myself--

my own outrageous ideas
	and philosophical ponderings

i need to be remembered
as me--

a sweet, 
self-conscious young female
with a woman's mind
	and a naive nature

i am reversible

the inside
of my sweater-soul
is just as bright
and brilliant,

and the tiny tangles
of woven memories
just add to my eclectic
beauty

more than faults,
	they are birthmarks--

they distinguish my inside
	from my out,

my soft smile
	from the painted porcelain,

and me
	from you.